ISHMANISM: An ISHMAN Collection

Ch 1: Just how fast the night changes (pt.1)

Shubman and Ishan went out for a late-night run by the beach of Mumbai. None of their teammates had any more energy left in them after that day's rigorous practice session. And Ishan seemed a bit down lately, Shubman thought, and staying cooped up in the room won't do him any good.

The night was cool and the sea sounded sweet. The lights by the beach are always kept on. And here, you won't ever find the roads empty. But this late at night, the crowd was gone. People sat in smaller groups, a few tourists, some solo people, some couples and friends were scattered here and there through out the marine drive.

'The city's beautiful in the night,' Shubi said to Ishan.

'Mhmm...,' Ishan was looking out at the sea... his eyes were taking in the whole aesthetic of night-time-Mumbai. Who wouldn't love it?

Shubman slipped his hand into Ishan's. He tore his eyes from his surroundings and looked up at Shubi. His grip relaxed into Shubman's warm palm and, reflexively, moved in a bit closer to him, their arms touching. They slowed their pace and walked like lovers do. Why wouldn't they? They love each other. But none ever said that out aloud. None ever looked into each others' eyes for longer than 10 seconds, nor kissed each other anywhere on their body after a hug, like lovers do. Even if they did want to kiss each other, keep on looking into the others' eyes, hold on to each other, make love to one another, share each other's life... Shubman and Ishan were both scared of their truths. So, they walked like that for a while.

'Thanks... for taking me out on this walk. It was stuffy in there...' Ishan said in a small, tired voice.

'Anything for you,' Shubi looked on top of Ishan's head, 'bestie,' he added. He could feel Ishan's arm stiffen up a bit before he regained his composure and remained nonchalant about his feelings. Lately Shubman had been noticing Ishan better and better. He cannot possibly explain the feelings rushing through his veins every time he sees Ishan, whether when he is concentrating hard during practice, or taking a shower in the common shower room, or talking to his mother over the phone. His smiles, the dimples on his cheeks, the shallow stubble growing around his soft face, the veins running all over his tattooed arms, the sculpted muscles fitting perfectly in every inch of his body and the softness of his whole feature. Shubman just wants to touch them, trace them and understand what lies inside, within Ishan. He can't stop looking at him.

Last night, when they had a team dinner, when Ishan entered the room wearing his black shirt and black trousers, a black ring dangling from his left ear, it seemed like Shubman forgot how to breathe. There was no air around him and he could hear his heart right next to his ear, trying to explode out of his throat. He could see Ishan in slo-mo, as he dragged out the chair opposite to Shubman, sat down and flashed a smile and his beautifully deep dimples all around the table. It took Shubman everything in him to not get on top of the table and hold Ishan's face in between his palms and give him a deep kiss.

And, the week before, when they had gotten off the field and were taking a shower, he noticed every movement of Ishan's body as the shower water bounced off his smooth skin, his wet hair outlining his skull and sticking all over his face. Shubman imagined what it would feel like to be able to brush off the hair in front of his eyes. 

Tonight, he was walking right next to him, hand in hand, like lovers do, thought Shubman. He wouldn't mind walking like this forever. He stole a glance at Ishan again. His face was down and his gaze were distant. It troubled Shubman too. He stopped short and turned to Ishan, keeping a firm grip on his hand.

'Let's go down to the beach,' he said.

Ishan looked up, confused from the sudden affirmation.

'Come on,' and with that Shubhman dragged the elder man down to the beach.